Dairy Queen
by eehw
Summary: Wally West didn't die after the Invasion. Instead, he finds himself running for eternity in a foreign, white world. He's not alone, however. Not by a long shot. Irregular Updates. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

_… __Wally. Wally?_

The yawning white pit around him grated on his soul as the voices came and went. He had been running for a long time now, too long.

"... Artemis."

His voice cut through the whispers like a knife. Perhaps, perhaps if he kept talking, the voices would leave him alone.

No.

He didn't want to be alone. Besides, some of the whispers had her voice. They helped him keep her memory alive.

For the whispers to stop… that would be bad, very bad.

Was this what death felt like? He remembered Uncle Jay telling him something different. A black racer, speeding from the unknown to take them to the hereafter. This was certainly not aligned to such a description.

For a speedster, anyway, his present state was an anomaly. Impossible. Unknown.

Such unknowns had always irked him. A voice:

_Have faith in what you can't explain. Believe in what you can no longer deny._

Someone had told him that, when he'd been fifteen years old and an errant child. When he didn't know death, and the Reason why so many people resigned themselves to believing in the impossible. He knew that reason now.

_Artemis._

Of course, the man who told him that was dead now. He went to see his Inza. His successor, someone who Wally as a teenager had thought an overbearing prick, was now stuck in a helmet backseat-driving while an all-powerful being presiding over all the order in the universe did whatever the hell it wanted with his body. Zatarra played the faithful hero, and left a daughter behind.

Wally had gained a modicum of respect for that man since, especially since he took his place as Nabu's slave. Besides, he wasn't one to talk. He had left a family behind, too; and the most wonderful woman on earth.

Maybe Nabu would talk to him sometime. Lord of Order, right? Nothing was more orderly than a place composed of all colors in the universe, balanced perfectly to form a bland, soulless white. It's not like he was going anywhere, anyhow; running for eternity tended to mean one had a significant amount of time on their hands.

_That's the great thing about eternity, it's eternal._

Such a hopeful thing for Kent. Such a hopeless thing for himself.

* * *

Voices, voices, voices.

_Stanford? _

_It's a shot in the dark, but I think it couldn't hurt trying. _

_The Wall-man I know could certainly apply and with those grades, I think he'd make it. _

_I don't know… _

_You know, if you try, I'll try. A prep school like Gotham Academy won't hurt my chances, you know. Maybe we'll even be together. Besides, it's a shot in the dark._

_Yeah, but-_

_I know you, Wally. We'll do this together._

A kiss.

_I'm not fast enough… _

Running, running for eternity. It was all so pointless.

_Wally's fast enough when he wants to be._

Was that Barry?

_We're suddenly out of ice cream._

Goddamnit. Nothing makes sense anymore.

* * *

Barry, God, Barry. What will Barry and the others do, now that they think he's gone? Do they think he's dead? Would someone else take his place?

Bart, yes. Bart would do it. He was faster, better than he ever was. He wasn't weighed down by his own mistakes, only the mistakes of a world he'd left behind.

More importantly, Bart hadn't met Hunter.

* * *

Gunshots, a woman's scream. Something about Velocity Nine, and a murderer he and Uncle Barry had tried to catch. The murderer had killed himself, leaving behind a son.

It was only a few months later, just after junior year, when Wally had met the older, sad-eyed boy on the bench. They were waiting outside, and only later found out they were part of the same internship at the precinct. Barry had gotten it for him. Artemis and he had been going strong for about a year.

_Your name's Hunter, right?_

_Y-yes?_

_I'm Wally. You here for the internship as well?_

_I'm not your pity case._

_W-wait, dude, what? _

_You go to Keystone High, right? Then you know the story. Everyone knows the shitty little story of Hunter Fleet. Just… go away. _

The mists blurred together. Another time.

_OK man, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but we have to work together if we're going to finish this assignment. Ice cream?_

_That sounds… alright, just this once. But I'm not a pity case._

_Never said you were. _

Wally just shook his head. Running, running, running.

_The Zolomon's adopted me. Not like I'd need it much longer, obviously. I'm almost 18._

The voices came so fast, so different. Not like him. He was too slow.

He had always been _too slow_.

_You're Kid Flash, aren't you? _

_The one and only._

_I idolized you, once. Then I found out you killed my dad._

_Tula's dead. _

_Kaldur… no… _

_Jason._

So much death.

* * *

_Just one more game?_

_Couldn't hurt._

* * *

_Stanford's dorms are too much. How about we rent out a place, Palo Alto sound better?_

_It sounds perfect, Wall-man._

_Hunter, he's… _

Zoom.

_This isn't over._

_Hunter's dead. We're holding a funeral this Sunday. I don't think he knew many people, but you were in his contacts, and I-_

_No._

No.

_No more heroics. This life, it had to end. It's too much._

No one knew about his mistakes outside of the Flash family. No one except Artemis.

And now he might never see her again.

It had hurt too much to tell Dick.

* * *

He kept running. Running on, and on, and on. His legs burned. A voice, louder and clearer than any of the others, said something to him. Something… new.

"You can't honestly think our story ended, did you? We have so much unfinished business left to attend to, and I'd like to think there's always time in a place like this."

White had never looked so dirty. A red and yellow stain blotted the horizon like dried blood.

"Let's get this party started, _Wall-man_. I have ice cream."

"...Hunter?"

Everything swirled around, and the brilliant white started to fade into a dull black. He could finally rest…

The dark felt cold, he decided. Cold like Dairy Queen.

Tasted near as good, too.

* * *

**AN: This is really just an experimental character piece for Wally West post-season 2. I don't really know where it's going, and since I do not read the comics, I probably took a lot of liberties with this (I am aware of Hunter Zolomon's backstory in the comics, and elements were used but also changed intentionally for if I continue this story). I just really like the Wally West of the show and enjoy 'what if' stories about the circumstances if he didn't die. If this does continue past a one-shot, it will most likely be an introspective story modeled around an over-the-garden-wall style trip into a Speed Force very different from representations in most DC stuff. I will not be doing a Wally-West-goes-to-the-future-or-AU thing here, though I do enjoy those fics quite a bit. Don't expect regular updates if something ever comes of this.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

_Worried about Roy?_

_Wally. It was my choice, not Nightwing's. It'll all be OK._

_You remembered… _

_You need to stop worrying so much. We'll be OK._

The voices continued in the darkness just as much as they had in the light.

* * *

_Life since the mole incident had been… decent, for Wally for about a year now. Roy had been having a hard time adjusting, and Dick and himself hadn't seen him much, but the Light and all the shady business associated with them seemed to be on the backburner. They weren't acting up as much, and as such, the Team had been called for much less activities than in the past. It meant that Wally could focus more on developing his life with Artemis, fighting alongside Uncle Barry and, well, high school. It was not to last._

_Everything changed once the Fleets moved in from Gotham, and Wally's life was turned upside down by something almost entirely different to an organization bent on world domination…_

* * *

_Wally?_

_Yes?_

_You busy? I'm sorry for disturbing you, but it's urgent._

_I'm working on an AP Lit paper right now. What's going on? Is it the Rogues again?_

_No, not the Rogues. Definitely not the Rogues._

_Uncle Barry, what's going on?_

_Do you remember the new drug I told you about? The one the triads have started porting in from an unknown buyer. Vel-_

_-ocity nine, yes. _

_It seems that speed-drunk gangsters aren't our only problems anymore. Normally a dosage of the drug just exposes the user to a small boost of speed, of energy, as we've seen with the triads by the docks, but… _

_But what Barry?_

_Someone's found the drug, and it seems they've either tailored it to their own purposes, or have simply started overdosing. You know the "Bloody Hand" murders on the news? Unconnected bodies, the murder weapon untraceable, no fingerprints?_

_It matches a speedster, doesn't it. _

_Yes… _

_Could it be Thawne?_

_No. He was dealt with before your time, and besides, these murders lack his signature style anyway. Wait, how do you even know about that?_

_Iris told me. _

_She shouldn't have. You aren't ready to be exposed to that story._

_As if being on a covert team of superheroes doesn't already expose me to stuff like that all the time?_

_Touche. Still… Thawne was a different breed. _

_Anyway, back on track?_

_The residual energy I sensed while autopsying the bodies… it… matched us, in a weird way. It was like a speedster, but different. That was how I knew it was the drug. It'd be easier if you could come over here. You'll have all the time in the world when you get back to do your paper, and you know it._

_On my way._

* * *

"Hello, Wally."

His eyes opened to reveal an alien world, a galaxy of light. A floating form, half wreathed in stars, shimmered before him. Wally could barely make out the vague shape of a helmet in its midst. A very… _familiar_ helmet.

"... Nabu?"

"Yes. It is I."

"You're not Hunter."

"No, I'm not."

"Are you going to help get me back?"

"No. It is not my place. As the Lord of Order, I must ensure inertia to be maintained. Only a being of chaos could offset you from your current path."

"Great, just great. Finally, in this godforsaken place, I find someone who could actually help me, and they're just here to _gloat_."

"I am not here to gloat, West. We have a connection, from the time you last wore this helmet. Why else would we be speaking now?"

"I don't frickin' know. Aren't you the god in this situation?"

"It was a rhetorical question."

"Well, that was a rhetorical answer!"

There was a deep breath of silence. The golden helmet and billowing cape became clearer amid the stardust across from him.

"It is not my place to fight your demons for you, West. This is but one of the many folds of the realm you are in, a land that is not my domain at all, but someone else. Many beings inhabit the holes in reality. Even if I would hold the desire to help you, I would not be able to. Tell me,t_Wallace Rudolph Wes_, do you know what the Ancient Egyptians thought of your last name?"

Wally scoffed. His middle name sounded ridiculous coming from the being's lips.

"I never much cared for magic or superstition. It never mattered to me, being a Physics Major and all."

"Ah, but you understand faith now, don't you? My former charge must have said _something_ about his time with me while you talked."

That sure shut him up. Doctor Fate continued.

"It is always good to understand the past, no matter how the foolish might deem it _unnecessary_."

"Sure." His life just kept getting worse and worse, didn't it.

"The west was a place of two things, Wallace. The sun set there in the sky, and it is believed that is the final destination of the dead. The end of all things, but also the beginning of a next chapter."

"So it's my fate to die here. For all I know, I'm already dead."

"You did cease to exist in their reality, yes. However, it is not your fate to die, but rather to _fight_. The sun dies in the west, only to be reborn in the east in all its glory. In the darkness, the sun god Re fights Apep, Nak, Sebau. Apep was his mortal enemy, the godless serpent, an old sun god himself who lost his former place in the heavens."

The stardust swirled around him, closer than Wally would have ever liked. The helmet was upon him.

"Rise, Wallace West. Fight your demons, take control of your fate, and _rise_."

* * *

Wally awoke slowly, only to find himself in that white space again. Shit. Something was different, though, something big that he couldn't quite place. Wait…

He looked down.

He wasn't running anymore.

_He wasn't running anymore!_

A voice from behind him broke through his brief triumph.

"It's rude to keep your host waiting, you know."

Wally turned around to see, inexplicably, two lawn chairs set up in the middle of the white space around an picnic bench. In the seat, smiling with a bowl of freshly scooped chocolate ice-cream, sat Hunter himself, stuck in the very same ugly patchwork piss-yellow suit that he had died, fresh bloodstains still streaking its surface.

_Why did death make no sense? _

"Fun." he said, taking a seat across from the greatest mistake of his life. He took the extra bowl of ice-cream, and started shoving the stuff in his mouth.

_Might as well roll with it_, he decided.

* * *

**AN: I guess we'll see how this goes. Don't expect a linear plot. **


End file.
